


Not Alone Anymore

by RenaRoo



Series: Femslash February [10]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9904637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: April is a little lost in the wake of Karai's acceptance into the Hamato Clan, but she can't seem to get away from Karai either. [Femslash February]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: ( anonymous ) Awesome, thanks! Some of the good femslash potential for TMNT2012 only emerged this current season with a new character, but my OTP remains AprilxKarai. So maybe something with Karai patching up an injured April with their typical snarky banter? If you please and thank you. :)
> 
> A/N: This is actually my first time writing in the 2012 continuity so I hope my voices feel right. It’s actually a blast writing a younger April and Karai from what I’m used to, and hopefully you’ll enjoy this too, anon!

Being hurt didn’t have the stakes it used to. 

April remembers being younger and being smaller, how just the idea of pain was enough to make her hesitate and rethink things. The threshold for it was so low, like a child first learning not to touch a hot stove. 

Hurt is something that teaches, but it also numbs. Physically, anyway. 

It numbs with callouses over time and with endurance and skills learned – until you’re no longer a kid and suddenly hurt is something that doesn’t just describe something physical. It describes the feeling of a young girl scared she’ll never see her father again. Of a friend who feels sick with worry and guilt when her new family is endangered for her sake. 

For April, maturing is about learning the different ways she can be hurt, but not back down. 

But none of them are quite as difficult to deal with as the hurt of feeling _replaced._

She tells herself that it’s not fair to think that way. She tells herself that it’s not fair to be so vehemently antisocial toward someone simply for existing in a occupancy that she once held so dear and privately to herself. 

But it’s hard. Because being _best friend, sister, daughter_ – those roles are things April loves about herself. 

And they’re roles she is now sharing with Karai. 

 _Karai._ The woman who was once the enemy. 

Now she’s…

Now Karai belongs maybe even more than _she_ does and April just isn’t sure anymore how she’s supposed to deal with that. 

So she does what the Hamato Clan has taught her as they took her under their proverbial wings. She goes to the dojo, knowing that at the time it is Splinter’s soap opera hour and the boys are out getting a pizza. She takes time to stretch, to wrap her bare feet and knuckles with tape. 

Then she goes to work letting out all the feelings that she can. 

There are the katas from Leo, the dodges and rolls from Mikey, the straightforward punches to the sandbag from Raph, and of course the staff practice from Don. 

She puts them all to use in rapid succession, perhaps overlooking the most important of all – meditation from Splinter. 

But she doesn’t feel like meditating. April feels like hitting things. 

Hitting things that frustrate her. That she can pretend, just for a second, are Karai’s smug expression being wiped right off her face.

“What are you doing?” 

April’s sweeping motions become unbalanced with her surprise and her momentum carries into the swing of her practice bo. With a short yelp, she swings out wildly toward the source of the voice.

Fortunately (or _un_ fortunately as it may be), Karai catches the staff in one hand and raises an eyebrow coolly at April. 

“What are _you_ doing?” April finally sputters back, trying to yank the bo back from Karai’s grip.

Karai tugs back. “I asked first.”

“I chose not to answer first,” April grits out, grabbing the staff with both hands and pulling with all her might. And, as April probably should have been expecting, Karai released the staff and allowed April to fall backward onto the tatami mats. “Ugh! Why are you even _here!?”_

Rolling her eyes, Karai folds her arms. “I _live_ here now.”

“Not in the dojo, go to your room or something! Hang out with Splinter or the guys! Leave me _this_ when I want to work through my frustrations,” April snaps. She closes her eyes and waits for the sound of Karai doing so. Of course, it didn’t come and when April opens her eyes she sees that Karai has walked over to the practice weapon rack and is grabbing a staff for herself. “Uh, _hello!_ Did you hear me–”

“You’re sloppy and it’s a disservice to Splinter’s lessons to you,” Karai critiques.

“ _Master_ Splinter,” April corrects her. “And my technique is-is _flawless!_ Don told me so–”

“He’s sloppy in the same way you are, so that makes sense,” Karai replies, turning around to face April. She shows off, spinning the bo around herself and then aiming it toward April. “You both practice technique _stiffly._ There’s a lack of cohesion because you’re _thinking_ too much. You’re two of a kind. Makes sense.”

“We can’t _all_ be little ninja princesses,” April mocks. 

Karai’s eyes narrow. “Fight me.”

Caught off guard, April drops her shoulders. “What?”

“Fight me. Spar. _Practice,”_ Karai demands. “Instead of moping around and doing yourself a disservice by practicing the wrong techniques, spar with me and learn how to fight with _instinct_ instead of a predictable rhythm with the same moves repeated over and over again.” Her eyes gleam with something almost dangerous. “ _Fight me,_ April.”

Nervous, April hesitates before shaking her head. “No, that’s stupid. I’m not on your level–”

“You’re not,” Karai agrees. “Fight me.”

Puffing out her bottom lip, April narrows her eyes at Karai. “Why? So you can just beat me up for fun?”

A certain smile came across Karai’s lips. “Maybe.” Then, again, “ _Fight me.”_

There are few things that April despises more than losing, and one of those is giving Karai satisfaction. Which is ultimately what makes this a no-win proposition for her. 

But, of course, April doesn’t like backing down either. 

With a quick yell, April pulls the staff into a full forward swing. It’s predictably blocked by Karai, but its momentum leads into her attempt to pivot around to Karai’s more exposed left side with the second strike. 

Karai blocks again.

They continue in this manner, striking, blocking, pivoting. 

April remembers that Leonardo once told her that fighting is a lot like dancing with a partner. There isn’t winning so much as there is falling in line with the steps and biding your time in the steps until you can take the lead. 

Thing is, April has never been a huge fan of dancing either. 

She knows Karai isn’t trying, at least not really. There’s no attack on her end, just defense and that cocky smile that April would give almost anything to wipe off her face. It makes April strike harder, faster, _wilder._

With ease, Karai leads their dance. 

Then, just as April least expects it, Karai pivots forward and knocks the staff out of April’s tightened grip as if she had not been holding it at all. 

Shocked, April looks at Karai just as the former Foot kunoichi whips both of April’s raised wrists, knocking them down to her sides and leaving nothing between the end of the staff and April’s throat. 

Swallowing, April can feel the grind of the wood against her skin. 

Her heart’s pounding as she looks into Karai’s smirking face. Then, surprisingly, Karai lets up and eases up, stepping back with a laugh and throwing up her staff before catching it midair again. 

“Too stiff,” she points out again. “Relax.”

“Ugh!” April growls. “I _know_ what I’m doing, you just… took me by surprise. That’s all, alright? Don’t let it get to your head!” April snaps.

“You’re right. My high confidence couldn’t take another boost. It’d become too overpowering,” Karai remarks, though April _swears_ she cannot tell how much of it is sarcasm or not. 

One thing April _can_ tell, though, is when she has an opening. 

Karai’s smugness is nearly wiped off her face when April lunges toward the kunoichi’s knees and below her center of gravity, toppling her over April’s shoulders just like Raphael has taught her. 

Or, at least, it should have, if Karai wasn’t as slippery as a snake, so to speak, and maneuvers out of April’s grip, pushing off her back and sending April to the floor as she lands delicately on the mats. 

There is no such delicacy as April fins herself careening toward the ground and only moment to try and tuck into a roll that doesn’t _quite_ work out for he, rolling her from a bruised shoulder to the weapons rack where he left ankle smacks into the metal fittings that kept the rack attached firmly to the wall. 

Letting out a sharp cry of pain, April got onto her but and immediately recoiled her injured limb, hands grasping around the ankle and foot as she bit back hisses from the searing pain. 

In the corner of her eyes, April could see Karai, and she fully expects laughter or a look of amusement. But she doesn’t see it. What she gets instead is a notable look of surprise followed by Karai freezing up.

April decides to ignore Karai for the moment, tending to her already swelling ankle instead when Karai suddenly slides in to her side, looking alarmed.

“I didn’t mean… You shouldn’t have…” Karai thinks out loud before glaring at April. “Why did you go and hurt yourself?”

“Ugh! Are you _serious_ right now?” April yells back.

“Yes! No… I mean,” Karai growls and slams her fists down on the ground beside her. “This is so hard!”

Not knowing what Karai is referring to, April simply shakes her head and points back toward the other end of the dojo. “Grab the medicine kit. I sprained my ankle and I’ll need to compress it before it swells up too much.”

“I don’t…” Karai hesitates, looking over her shoulder then back to April. “I don’t know where that is.”

“Seriously?” April demands, frustration high in her voice. “Over by the sink, under the counter. It’s… It’s a medical kit, you know? With the red cross–”

“Okay, fine! I know what a kit is,” Karai blasts back as she raises to her feet. Once more, she hesitates, chewing on her lip, before walking with less confidence in the direction where April directed. 

Ankle throbbing, April quickly turns her attention back to the swelling and groans to see a purpling bruise already in the works.

Before she knows it, Karai is back – always so quick and quiet – and dropped down to her side, medical kit in her lap. 

“Do you know how to wrap a compress?” April asks. 

“I could make one out of the sleeve of my own shirt if I needed to,” Karai answers, pulling out the adhesive wrap. 

“We’ll need to ice it, too,” April points out. 

“Well, I didn’t _see_ any ice under the sink,” Karai snaps.

April barely keeps her eyes from rolling out of their sockets. “Oh my gosh, you can’t be serious – here!” April says, reaching over Karai and taking a cold pack from it. “These have chips inside of them that you break like this,” she flattened the bag between her hands, “and activate them for cooling. See.” She hands the bag back to Karai. “Wrap that against my ankle, too.”

“Normally I leave my enemies to tend their own wounds,” Karai replies, taking the cold pack and doing as ordered.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly ask for your help here today so that’s on you,” April retorts, crossing her arms. She then flinches as the compress is pulled tight. 

“Sorry,” Karai says unexpectedly, wrapping more carefully. “And I didn’t… I wasn’t including _you._ ”

Grunting a bit in response to the pain, April looks at Karai testily. “Including me in _what?”_

“An enemy,” Karai clarifies, looking up toward April. “It came out that way but… it’s far from what I meant. So. I’m sorry. It’s more accurate to say that… I’m not used to taking care of people. Or caring about people. Or approaching people… or liking people… or not fighting people…”

“Wow, when you put it all that way, it’s almost like you suck or something,” April can’t help but laugh. 

“Only at the things that matter,” Karai snarks back. 

April lets out a deep breath. “Look… Karai, it’s not your fault. About the ankle. You were just sparring. I’m… I _have been_ not so great with adjusting to having you around. Everyone here they’re… It’s my second family. And I’m not used to sharing that yet… to feeling like someone else can take my place. But that’s wrong of me. And I’m sorry.”

“No one can take your place, are you kidding?” Karai asks critically. “Have you seen what they’re all willing to do for you? I’m… _family._ But I was also an enemy. No one knows where my place is yet. So if I’ve been irritating or imposing on you lately it’s… it’s only because I’m hoping that maybe, learning from you, I’ll figure out where my place in the family is, too.”

Surprise no doubt shows on April’s face and she pulls her legs tenderly into a lotus position, sitting across from Karai. “I’m sorry, Karai. I had no idea… and more than that, I’ve not been welcoming. Which isn’t fair.”

“It’s really not,” Karai laughs. “You make it so hard for a girl to get ahead. I mean, even after I asked all the guys to let us have the lair alone.”

April blinks. “ _That’s_ why they’re not here? Because you told them to go?”

Kaai shrugs. “They didn’t have to listen.”

“No, it’s alright,” April says, nervously reaching up and brushing some hair from her cheek. “Heh, I guess… I guess I see the value in having some alone time now. Let’s us talk about things.”

“We needed that,” Karai agrees.

“Maybe see things we didn’t before,” April nods.

“Hopefully,” Karai replies, smile still present, though April no longer sees it as snark. It is a cover for something more hesitant, more fragile. More _hopeful._ “I’d like if we tried.”

“Me, too,” April says. “After all, neither of us are alone anymore.”


End file.
